Dungeon Deep, Dungeon Blood
by RedCosmicDust
Summary: Some time has past since questing ceased. The dungeon is largely empty and quiet. Lord Fear kidnaps Sidriss and tricks Treguard into entering the dungeon to rescue her. But what is Lord Fear's real aim? And what has this to do with a directionally challenged elf and a ranger from a small seaside town in the year 1220? chapter 1 of many!
1. Chapter 1

**A note on chronology** -_ Although this story takes place mostly in the Knightmare realm, it is important to note that the year in the world outside it is_** 1220**_ and takes place about ten years after 'The Sorcerer's isle' and the end of the TV series._

Knightmare

Dungeon Deep, Dungeon Blood

1

No matter how long he stared at it, the paths to the dungeon were not going to open. Lord Fear sighed deeply, placing his head on his hand and drumming his fingers thoughtfully on the large over ornate chair he had placed in the chamber at the top of the tower at Marblehead. The chair was black velvet, with a silver skull and bones motif around the edges. He waved his hand despondently in front of his enchanted window. Sixteen million colours, surround sound, automatic detection with and response, he'd decided to call 'windows', it could see nearly everywhere throughout the Knightmare realm and there was still nothing to see. The large, arched window was currently showing a representation of the paths to the mortal realm from where little snotty dungeoneers would come to supposedly 'challenge the dungeon', ha!

Ten years had passed since the last quest. The first few years had been fine. He'd been allowed virtual freedom throughout the dungeon and had gone unchallenged throughout the levels. As powerful as the pompous Powers were they seemed to be lost without their little dungeoneers to do their dirty work for them. But after ten years, he was, well, bored. It was boring having it all your own way. Not that he would ever let on to Treguard. Lord Fear knew matters were becoming desperate when he actually considered trying to contact the stuffy old prig for some intelligent taunting. Lissard and his other minions were all right but nowhere near his level. It was why he'd kept them around really. They were unthreateningly stupid. None of them would ever being to conceive trying to overthrow him. Though it might be fun to watch them try.

Possibly he could attack Linghorm again? He'd sent the dragon to destroy it but the old bat Maldame had been warned by the do-gooding dungeoneers. She'd massed a force of witches who had destroyed the dragon...eventually. He allowed himself a rueful smile. But not before it had all but destroyed the witches and the surrounding area. Poor Madame had been left with the sewers, the Miremen and a handful of witches...and the tower which was annoying. Still she wasn't any sort of a threat any more. No-one was.

Lissard watched his master worriedly. When Lord Fear was in this sort of mood it did not bode well for the rest of his servants. In the end whatever Lord Fear did to alleviate his boredom it would be to Lissard that the rest of them would address their complaints. As if there was anything he could realistically do for them! Still he saw it as his job to at least try and direct his master's energies. Unfortunately Lissard was out of ideas. In the first few years following the last quest they had roamed the levels of the dungeon. There wasn't much else they could do. There was Treguard's castle which remained in the hand's of the 'Power's That Be' and the forest which was in the hands of the Greenwardens and the Elves. The Elves had become isolationists. They did not have contact with anyone if they could possibly help it. Effectively it meant the Elves had decided to attack anyone either from the Powers That Be or the Opposition they saw as a threat. The Greenwardens were loyal to the Powers but they were fewer in number these days. Lissard's anxiousness grew as he watched Lord Fear irritably drumming his fingers. There had to be something he could arrange to divert his master's attention. Unfortunately Lord Fear had incinerated monopoly set the moment Lissard had gained control of the utilities.

Lord Fear had considered leaving. Setting up and intimidate somewhere else. But that involved too much effort. He would have to start all over again and building a reputation of ruthlessness and fear was nothing but hard work. He already had that here, why give that up and be feared somewhere else? Lord Fear sighed again.

"What is it Lissard?" He growled. Lissard started in surprise. He hadn't made a noise he was certain. He hurried to Lord Fear's side.

"How did you know I wassss here Lordness?" He asked. Lord Fear gave him a disdainful look.

"I don't call you 'Tuna breath' for no reason." He snapped. "Now what is it?" Truthfully Lissard had no reason to be there, apart from trying to find something to alleviate his master's mood.

"The Power's!" Lord Fear exclaimed derisively, not waiting for Lissard to speak. "They couldn't locate their rear end with a map! Mind you, I don't think the Miremen or Goblins would fare much better. I mean what have they been doing with the excessive amount of free time we've been lumbered with? At least I actually tried! I invaded all the levels in the dungeon, whilst Treguard..." He stopped suddenly. Treguard was the dungeon master and whilst he was capable of virtually taking over the dungeon, the ultimate power remained with Treguard. He had a connection to Knightmare, a special kind of power that he had tried to destroy more than once. Get rid of the dungeon master and he could be the supreme power. And at the moment there were no brats around to help him get some bloody hammer, or bring a dragon down all over Mount Fear. In fact the poor dungeon-master must be quite alone at the moment, no back up and no-one to help. The idea had considerable appeal to Lord Fear. However, it needed to be carefully planned. He didn't want to ruin it all because he got impatient whilst he was bored. If there was no-one to help the old fool it certainly narrowed down chances of the plan failing. Lord Fear stood and paced the room.

"Show me the forest!" He snapped at the window. It appeared immediately, the view changed to show clearings, paths, elf portals and trees. There seemed to be no-one there at the moment. The view changed, showing the many little hamlets and villages. These Lord Fear studied at length. He could see the occasional green-warden but they seemed to be widely dispersed. He grinned. No-one to help.

"Lissard. I want you to get all the goblins into level one." Lissard sighed with relief.

"At once Lordness."

"They are to prepare for an ambush. Get them into the quest choice chamber." He put on an insincere smile. "Once you're done. Get back here. I want you to change into something uncomfortable."

Lissard hurried away. Lord Fear laughed. One ambush, plus one communication blackout, plus one Lissard would equal one dungeon-master. He was sure of it.

The empty dungeon rooms filled Treguard's mind. Since the last season of the dungeon the paths between the dimensions had sealed themselves firmly. No more new quests, no chance of finally dealing with Lord Fear. The dungeon dimension had sealed itself off and no quest had taken place for almost ten years. Maybe if he could gather the Powers that Be together they could force the paths and allow questing to start once more? However since the last quest they were scattered. Hordriss didn't seem to stir much out of his cottage in the forest, his daughter Sidriss...was as witch but...well, she probably wouldn't be much help. Stiletta had moved on, complaining that these days there was nothing decent to steal. Motely was a good jester but he couldn't help with the large amounts of magic required. Then there were the elves of the Greenwood, but they had dwindled in number and spoke to no-one these days, they trusted no-one and had a healthy dislike of all humans opposition of otherwise. The castle was quiet. Silence echoed through the corridors, it occupied rooms, it filled every available space until it rang in his ears. They had all left. Pickle had returned to the forest and he hadn't seen him for a number of years. Majida had declared that she was tired of Treguard's disparaging remarks and was going to find someone who appreciated her. As he sat alone in the antechamber he found that he actually missed her. She may have been extremely annoying, but at least she was company. They had all gone now and all he had to remember them was the silence they left behind. He stood and paced the chamber. With no dungeoneers, he felt redundant. He felt a sudden envy of Lord Fear, even without quest he still had his plans to take over the world.

A face appeared in the mirror. Treguard has replaced the Pool of Veracity, which was large, cumbersome and took up a lot of space with a new slimline mirror that hung on the wall. The only concession he was willing to make to Lord Fear's technomancy.

"Feeling your age today are we old thing?" Lord Fear said smugly. Treguard considered righteous indignation. A roar something like "Lord Fear you will cease these incursions into my rooms!" But really what was the point? What did he have to be indignant about? A draughty castle filled with pitfalls, traps, goblins and god knows what else.

"What is it?" He said with a trace of annoyance in his voice.

"What?!" Lord Fear said with his typical theatrics. "No righteous indignation? No 'Get out or else?' Feeling it today are we?"

Yes, thought Treguard, but I'm hardly likely to confess it to you. He stood and summoned as much righteous indignation as he could.

"Would you tell me what you want?!"

"Ten years without a quest, I think you should pack it in old boy!" Lord Fear chuckled.

"Gloat all you want! There will be new quests and we will win!"

"Really? You success rate before wasn't exactly stunning. You'll forgive me if I don't start shaking in my boots."

"Lord Fear, if you have no other reason for your incursion other than gloating..."

"Oh yes!" Lord Fear snapped his fingers. "I knew there was something else." He continued sarcastically. The view in the mirror pulled back, Treguard recognised the view as Lord Fear's main chamber in Marblehead. The familiar circular stone room with it's large vaulted windows which gave view of most of the Dungeon realm was largely devoid of occupants. However as the view in the mirror looked up, he saw a cage hanging from the domed roof. Treguard's anger was already mounting, Lord Fear had taken someone, he could feel his heart pounding as he wondering which poor unfortunate it was. He saw the dress first, red and purple. His suspicions were growing. Finally the view zoomed in on the figure in the cage.

"Sidriss!" Treguard exclaimed. The view changed and he was looking at Lord Fear once more. "Let her go!" Treguard commanded, his voice reduced to a low threatening growl.

"Let her go?" Lord Fear put a puzzled expression on his face to taunt him. "I don't think you quite understand how this works. You have no allies. No dungeoneers to do your dirty work for you. The Powers that Be are scattered. I am doing whatever I like your dungeon...which makes me wonder. Can it really be considered to be your dungeon any longer? Hardly in control of it are we?"

"Knightmare castle IS MINE!" The anger Treguard felt finally exploded out of him.

"Then prove it! Come in here and GET ME!"

He was being deliberately goaded. Treguard knew it even as he went to the armoury and blew the dust of Morpheus. However there didn't seem to be much he could do about it. As much as he hated to admit it, Lord Fear was right. The Powers were scattered. His allies who had never been numerous to start with, had considerably reduced in number. Still he hadn't intended to be completely rash. He had tried to contact the Greenwardens, some of whom he still spoke to. But Lord Fear had instituted a communications blackout which meant he couldn't speak to anyone. The paths to the dungeon were closed so summoning a dungeoneer was out of the question. Sadly though Hordriss was a great mage and would be indignant at the capture of his daughter, there was little he could do. If Lord Fear intended him to go into the dungeon on his own he had arranged matters perfectly. He was planning something and the best way to find out what it was, was to spring it. Unfortunately. He stood before the archway that lead into the dungeon. The shadows that filled it seemed to have a tangible quality, as though they were reaching out to grab him. It was the same archway he had sent dungeoneers through. His words to them as he sent them into danger, echoed around his own mind taunting him.

"If your are sure..."

The only thing he was certain of in that moment was that he had to go. He couldn't let Lord Fear hurt Sidriss, and as Lord Fear had so gleefully pointed out there were no dungeoneers to send. The sword shifted in his hand. There had been a time when it had felt like part of his arm, like another limb. Now it just felt heavy and unwieldy. He had caught a glance of himself in the mirror, despite his efforts to avoid it. He was older, greyer and tired. A far cry from his his own questing days so many years before. Lord Fear was probably laughing his head off at the thought his provoking had worked. He glanced around his empty antechamber. No more Dungeoneers, no more quests. He looked back at the portal to the dungeon and stepped boldly forward.


	2. Chapter 2

Dungeon Deep, Dungeon Blood

2

"Why don't you jussssst kill him Lordnessss?" Lissard slurred into his master's ear. The plan had gone better than Lord Fear had hoped. The old fool had barged into the dungeon and straight into his trap. A magical cage had been waiting for him in the very first room of level one! Once Treguard had stepped into to it...bang! He was his prisoner. Lord Fear had used a similar spell to trap Hordriss. However, there were no snotty dungeoneers to release Treguard. The best part though was seeing the old fools face as he transformed Sidriss back into Lissard. How he had laughed!

"Because there are rules even I cannot break." Lord Fear said irritably. Not that he hadn't tried. A nice slow death with gloating and a large side of sadism thrown in. However since he was a senior mage as Treguard suffered he could feel the dungeon becoming unstable. Treguard was the Dungeonmaster, it could not or more probably would not exist without him.

"But Lordnesss..." Lissard insisted. Lord Fear sighed.

"The Dungeon needs a Dungeonmaster and Treguard is it. Clear?"

"No."

"Well tough."

"Doesss this mean the dungeon will remain closssssed Lordness?" Lord Fear considered.

"Well, however unlikely it may be if the Powers that Be re-united they might just be powerful enough to open the way."

"They might be provoked to act if they findsss out you have the dongeonmassstersss lordnesss."

"Yes." Lord Fear said thoughtfully. It would surprise many of the Powers that Be that the tower of Marblehead actually had a library. With books. This was Lord Fear and Lissard were now. Lord Fear was feeling particularly grumpy at having to do research, but unfortunately it was necessary. He knew the information existed, it was a question of where to find it. Whilst he would usually use his underlings to perform this kind of research, he didn't trust they they wouldn't miss something relevant. Besides he wasn't sure most of his employee's could read. He had found a very promising line of enquiry. Sadly he had to send Sylvester Hands to follow it up, but if it turned out well, he would have a more permanent way to ensuring Treguard's co-operation.

A lone rider on a dusty road approached the small collection of houses. The sun was sinking in the sky, bathing the landscape in a warm red glow. It had been a hot day. The sun shone unrelentingly on the already baked soil. On either side of the dirt track traversed by the rider, fields of golden corn swayed in the minute breeze. It was clear to the rider that these fields hadn't seen a drop of rain for some time and the farmers tending the fields were worried the crop would be spoiled. The horse's hooves kicked up dust from the ground, both horse and rider were covered with a thin layer. At the edge of the village the rider reigned in the horse, and spent a little time surveying the area. Smoke issued from thatched roofs, mud covered walls and small fences partitioning small tracts of land on which the inhabitants let their animals freely roam. The houses also grew their own food, it was either that or starve. In the distance the rider spotted a sign, a crudely drawn hand painted sign that signified the house it was outside was an Inn of some sort. An Inn was the best place to start as it was usually the centre for gossip and news. Gently kicking the horse into movement, the rider made towards it.

The interior of the Inn was quite small, and yet a surprising number of people had managed to crowd into it. Most were labourers who worked the land, they had finished a hard days work and jostled the busy innkeeper for more ale. Hot days were good for him, it meant the labourers would spend more money to quench their thirst.

"Oi!" One of them, the worse for drink, shouted above the noise. Although the inn was small, it had a sort of bar, behind which Elfrid, the innkeeper, kept most of his alcohol. The barrier had been useful, more than once, in separting him from the more enthusiastic of his clientelle. He rolled his eyes and stopped just in front of the speaker.

"Yes?" He asked genially. The labourer gave him a conspiratorial look and leaned forward. "Who's that?" He asked, not very quietly. He was referring to a stranger who had come in a few hours earlier. He had caught Elfrid attention not just because he had arrived on foot, but his unusual garb. Apart from a long grey cloak, the stranger had dressed primarily in green. He'd paid for a small bottled of wine and had kept to the corner of the room ever since.

"Not sure." Elfrid replied. "Looks like he's trying to drown his sorrows though." Now he came to think about it. There had been something unusual about the man, his forehead crinkled as he tried to remember what it was. When the man had removed the hood of his cloak something had stuck him about his appearance. Now the man was sitting in the shadows he was damned if he could remember what it was.

The door was pushed open and dead quiet fell in the middle of a word. A tall, slim figure stood in the doorway. It was impossible to tell what the figure looked like as the setting sun was behind them. The figure appeared to survey the crowded inn, his gaze seemed to linger on the corner where the stranger sat. Then the figure stepped in removing the cloak's hood. Elfrid could see her properly now. A tall slim woman, with short black hair. Soft brown leather boots failed to make any noise on the dirt floor. Her gear looked expensive. She carried a bow on her back and had leather epaulets embossed with a celtic knot and edged with blue. The arm guard she wore matched the epaulets and marked her out as an archer. A more obvious sign was the quiver she wore at her belt. On the other side sheathed in a leather holster was a long knife. She wore trousers, also with a celtic knot design, which was not such a rare sight, but to see her so obviously armed caused the patrons of the inn to stare. She had a grim, icy expression on her face as though she had judged everyone in the room and disapproved. As she made her way to the bar, she could feel many eyes on her. Gradually however the noise level returned to normal. Elfridd approached the woman. He was unsure as to how to proceed.

"Can I help you miss?" He asked trying to sound as haughty as possible. The woman gave him an amber stare which reminded him of the expression his cat wore before it scratched him.

"I am looking for Dun forest." The woman had a deep voice that seemed to be full of quiet command. Purposefully she put a gold coin on the bar in front of him. He went to take it, her hand caught his by the wrist and held his hand firmly. Despite himself he was impressed, the young woman was strong.

"Dun forest?" He repeated. He frowned, the name struck a note with him, but he couldn't remember what it was. It felt like meeting someone he hadn't seen for some time, but simply couldn't remember their name. The woman sighed and released the man's wrist. The look of confusion on the man's face was becoming a familiar sight. As soon as she asked for Dun forest, a blank look would cloud their gaze.

"I would like a room for the night and stabling for my horse." She told the him. Elfrid suddenly looked happier. The conversation had turned to business, a subject he was much surer on. The gold coin she had given him would more than cover it, he told her. She also took some wine and settled in a corner of the inn. After a while, it seemed that the occupants of the inn had forgotten her presence. They would glance about and even though they seemed to look straight at the her, they couldn't see her. The woman took a long draft of wine. She felt the alcohol course through her veins relaxing her limbs and soothing her mind. How was it possible to lose an entire forest? She wondered. Maybe it wasn't exactly on the scale on Sherwood, which covered a sizeable amount of England, but it was still a forest. Rivers ran through it, there were villages in it, it should be quite hard to lose track of. Yet there seemed to be no sign of it. Asking for directions so far had not yielded any positive results. She had been riding for a number of days, yet there seemed to be no sign of it. True, all she had was the forest name, it was possible she was looking in the wrong area. Her researches however had lead her to believe that the forest was nearby. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes briefly. It had been a long day, which had followed a number of days, now stretching into weeks in which she had had no success. People she met on the road would not talk to her. Farmers had had a bad season the previous year and needed this years crop to be bountiful so they would be too busy to talk. Her only choice as far as she could see was to continue on her way early in the morning. Opening her eyes once more she looked at the labourers standing at the bar all shouting for more drinks. A cup smashed, there was a roar of anger, before Elfridd calming voice seemed to settled the matter. A man came towards her, she narrowed her eyes in his direction. He had a crop of wild looking brown hair that was showing the first signs of grey, and was dressed brightly in green. He paused by her table.

"May I mistress?" The figure asked. She indicated the empty chair opposite her with a nod.

"You seek the forest of Dun?" The man had an eager face and a slightly pleading tone in his voice.

"Yes." She replied leaning forward slightly to get a better look at the figure.

"No. It is not the forest you seek. It is the castle within it."

"Who are you?" She demanded.

"My name would mean nothing to you, I think." He said smiling slightly. "But I can help you. The path to the forest is lost. Together we may be able to find a way."

"What do you want from me?" She asked coolly, in her experience no-one offered their help for no reward.

"I...want to go home." The man said. "And judging from the bow and knife, I think you might be able to ward off anyone or...anything that might want to prevent us?" He smiled knowingly. She sat back narrowing her eyes suspiciously. He didn't seem to be a threat, and from the tone in his voice so far he had been honest.

"Why should I accept you as a travelling companion?" She asked.

"Forest of Dun is my home. Once there I will be able to guide you to what you seek."

"What makes you think I am seeking the castle?"

"All strangers seek the castle." He replied knowingly.

"What is your name?" She asked.

"You do not know me." The man smiled. The woman glared at him. It was a burning unsettling stare and the man found himself witheringly in it's heat.

"Call me Pickle." He relented. The woman raised an eyebrow but made no comment.

"Cat." She told him holding out her hand. He looked at it briefly before taking it.

"We start early tomorrow morning."


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you so much for the follow and the lovely comment! If you decide to keep following I'll get more of the story out once a week. Maybe more frequently!

Dungeon Deep, Dungeon Blood

Chapter 3

Sylvester Hands grovelled in front of Lord Fear.

"It's true your Lord...your magni mag..your poshness." He turned around, as though looking out for someone overhearing their conversation which considering they were in Lord Fear's palace at Marblehead would have been an achievement. Lord Fear took a step away from Hands, the smell was almost overpowering, he considered that if further quests did happen that he could just put Hands in front of the Dungoneer and they would pass out straight away.

"Where did you get the information? And if you say a bloke told me in a tavern…"

"It weren't a tavern, your poshness."

"No?"

"It were an Inn." Lord Fear rolled his eyes.

"Did you verify it?" Lord Fear asked Hands, then as Hands started to look panicky, he remembered Hand's limited vocabulary and changed tack.

"Did you check it out?" He said slowly.

"Well...it was difficult see? I couldn't get near the castle, the guards kept telling me to get lost and wouldn't talk to me and I found some of the servants and they told me to get lost too so I went to…"

"The Inn." Lord Fear guessed. "Yes go on. Really…"

"Well they was an 'orse cleaner there and he'd…"

"'Orse cleaner?!" Lord Fear queried.

"I think he meanssss 'Groom' lordness."

"Oh right. Yes go on Hands." Thinking that between Hands and Lissard he was in danger of suffocating.

"Well he'd just lost his job at the castle. So I 'membered what you said about charm and I bought him drinks cost me a bit that did." Hands looked meaningfully at Lord Fear. Lord Fear glared back, Hands may have the intelligence of a watermelon but on some matters, like money for instance, he was surprisingly sharp.

"Well he told me you see. So I arsked around you know… even though it it was like a long time ago, it's still local gossip see." Lord Fear smiled triumphantly and displaying a desire not to be gassed or drowned took another subtle step away from Hands and Lissard. Unfortunately they closed around him again.

"Hands." Lord Fear said and clapped him on the shoulder, which he instantly regretted and took it away again and tried to wipe it surreptitiously on his clothes. "I'd like to thank you for introducing me to a new concept." Hands suddenly looked very worried. "Being pleased with something you've done. Good job Hands." Hands looked like he was about to speak again anticipating him Lord Fear nodded.

"And yes you'll be reimbursed..you'll get your money back." As Hands walked away Lord Fear muttered.

"Though I'll probably end up being overcharged."

"I don't undersssstand Lordness." hissed Lissard. Lord Fear shook his head.

"Hardly surprising… what particularly don't you get?"

"How does thisss information help usss? Treguard is your prisssoner."

"Long term planning Lissard. Undoubtedly the Powers that Be will try and free Treguard and under the highly unlikely premise they succeed, I have this to control him with after." Lord Fear chuckled. "Who'd have thought it though eh? Always so high and mighty, and all the time…." He chuckled a little more.

"But Treguard does not know lordness." Lissard insisted, still puzzled.

"He will when I tell him." Lord Fear said.

"But won't he think it isss a trick?"

"Not when he sees." Lord Fear smiled malevolently. "Ah! The devastation that can be wrought by the truth!"

Lord Fear had Treguard prisoner in the bowels of Marblehead. The extensive sewers of Goth ran underneath the tower and emptied into the great Mire. The sewers were so extensive they also carried the filth from Linghorm which lay on the other side of the Great Mire. Instead of the bone cell he'd used to trap Hordriss, Lord Fear had created a cell, the dankest, darkest filthiest cell he could. He'd placed it near the sewers specifically so Treguard could have the full benefit of the foul smell they exuded. It was a dark place, where light rarely penetrated. Treguard found that opening and closing his eyes made little difference. At times a very small amount of light would penetrate the small barred opening in the cell door. Outside all he could see was a stone wall that occasionally had flickering torches in iron brackets hanging from it. He felt more anger at his actions than sorry. He had allowed Lord Fear to goad him and that had lead him here. He'd known it was trap. But sometimes in order to see what that trap was it had to be sprung. Instead of thwarting Lord Fear he had aided him. He lay unmoving on the narrow stone bench. The pain Lord Fear had caused him subsiding. After Lord Fear had caught him, he stood over him gloating. Treguard had encouraged this since it delayed the inevitable pain that he'd been certain was heading his way. Then Lord Fear had cast spell after spell at him, twisting his insides, scrapping every nerve, pulling him apart. Mercifully he'd passed out quickly and woken up here. He was grateful not to be dead, though he was at a loss to understand why.

"How are we doing old chap?" Lord Fear's cheerful greeting cut through the silence. Treguard lifted his head slightly to look through the barred window in the cell door. Pain shot through his neck and down his spine. He groaned slightly and lowered his head gently back to the bench.

"Oh dear. Still hurts does it?" Lord Fear's insincere concern mocked him. He could feel the anger boiling in his gut but kept a neutral expression on his face. Lord Fear leaned against the cell door watching Treguard carefully, he wanted to see the man's expression and revel in his pain.

"There's something I've always wanted to know. Did you really think that the crusade would head to Acre? Even after Alexios the whatever had convinced your leaders in Zara to go to Constantinople?"

He didn't raise his head this this time, but turned his head to look at Lord Fear with a frown.

"All right. I admit it! I don't actually care. I just wanted you to know that I'd done my research!" Lord Fear grinned gleefully. Outwardly Treguard kept his neutral expression, inwardly however he had started to panic. His past actions as a mercenary caused him much shame. So much so that he buried that part of his life deeply within his consciousness. Years had passed since he had last thought of those days. But it was known to the opposition, but as he came to think of it they had never mentioned it before. Which meant Lord Fear had found something new. Anxiously Treguard was searching his memories. Relatively speaking there had been few repercussions from that life he'd tried so hard to forget. He felt foolish for not considering that sooner or later it would catch up with him. Treguard's mind suddenly froze. Lord Fear had mentioned Zara. He kept control of his panic, and looked at Lord Fear in a bored way.

"It took a lot of work. But I recently located an old compatriot of yours. Stocky man, sicillian? Alessio? Quite willing to sell me all he knew about you for gold."

Not all that surprising, after all that was the meaning of the word 'mercenary', Treguard thought.

"He told me all the fascinating details of your holiday in Zara."

The neutral expression had gone, his eyes had widened and his chest was rising and falling more rapidly. Lord Fear could feel the thrill, he intended to draw this out and to savour every moment.

"His description of a night in late April that really interested me. After a hard time looting and pillaging. Driving people from their homes, burning the city. A man has to find a way to relax, I understand." He smiled gleefully again. "But the details were sketchy at best. Still I had a feeling so I followed it or rather I had Sly Hands follow it for me. Do you know what I found?"

Treguard had sat up and was giving him an icy stare. Lord Fear waited, watching him as a cat watches a mouse before he pounced.

"Eufrusina." He let the word hang in the air. He could see that Treguard was as tense as a coiled spring, all it required was a slight nudge to push him over.

"Tell me, was she willing?"

It took all of Treguard's willpower not to rush to the door and pound on it angrily. He wanted to wipe the smug expression off the man's face. His boiled with fury which only served to increase the look of satisfaction on Lord Fear's face. He tried to set his anger aside and think. Lord Fear was clearly working towards something and milking his reaction for all it was worth. A quiet voice from the back of his mind managed to briefly be heard through the torrent of anger he felt. The girl...

"Nine months latest she received a souvenir." Lord Fear grinned gleefully. His words hit Treguard like a bucket of iced water. The anger was gone. In it's place was the face of a woman he barely remembered.

"That's right." Lord Fear gloated. "A lovely little girl called Catrina." Lord Fear knew he would replay in his mind the expression on Treguards face the instant his cosy little world turned upside down. It would be his favourite memory. Isolated and imprisoned in Marblehead there would be little he could do. Lord Fear turned and walked a few steps before snapping his fingers as though he had forgotten something and returning.

"I've extended her an invitation to the castle. I know you must be anxious to see her."

Treguard wasn't aware of Lord Fear walking away. At that moment the air had been sucked from his lungs. Regardless of how many deep breaths he took it did nothing to ease the suffocation he felt. He leaned against the cool stone wall, and took long deep breaths hoping to ease his light-headedness.

He had a daughter.

The words held no meaning. He couldn't digest them. They spun endlessly around his mind driving all other thoughts away. He should have known there would be a price for his actions. That simply killing a dragon was not enough to wipe out ten years of hate. Possibly it had cleansed his sword but he had never really felt that it had cleansed him. Even at the time it had felt odd, paying for everything he'd done, the lives he had taken by taking one more life. In the immediate few years that had followed his repentance, he had spent the time looking over his shoulder, metaphorically speaking, at any moment expecting someone to demand justice for something he had done. He thought he had considered everything, from a relative demanding justice for a loved one to some one looking for a beloved family heirloom and the lord knew how he would have dealt with that. But not this. He had known women in his time, perhaps arrogance had convinced him that nothing would ever come from that. He wondered how much Lord Fear knew, and quickly realised that if he had spoken to Alessio it meant he knew everything. He was probably saving the best for future gloats, he would just have to bear it the best he could.


	4. Chapter 4

So… one chapter a week? Hah! That happened… sigh.

Chapter 4

The sun had barely risen above the horizon before Pickle found himself being roused by Cat. He had also stayed at the Inn overnight and found himself embarrassed as to funds with which to pay the Inn keeper for his room. To his surprise however, Cat settled his bill for him. She had also purchased an additional horse and supplies for their journey. Pickle eyed the horse with suspicion, Cat had already mounted her horse and was watching him with interest.

"How else did you expect to travel?" She asked him with a slight smile.

"Walk?" He said hopefully, she rolled her eyes.

"Get on it. If you keep staring at it, it may bite you."

"It won't bite me." Pickle said with a degree of confidence. "I do not believe such beasts should be used to bare burdens."

"You will not be able to keep up, unless you do ride it." Cat said with a sigh.

"You swore you would help me!" Pickle exclaimed.

"No I didn't." She pointed out. Pickle looked thoughtful for a moment then slightly annoyed.

"Swear now." He asked.

"I swear." Cat said seriously, Pickle looked pleased. Then she added. "If you don't get on that horse, you're on you're own." He scowled.

"You'll never find the forest." He tried desperately.

"And you'll never get home." Cat reminded him. He scowled again, finally giving up he mounted the horse.

"Mistress?" He queried as he settled himself more comfortably in the saddle. Cat looked at him suddenly.

"Call me Cat." She told him.

"Why you undertake this journey alone."

"There is something I have to do, and I want to do it alone." She told him.

"You have no family?" He asked sounding puzzled. Moments ticked past with nothing but the sound of the horses hooves on the ground to fill them.

"Not any more." She answered.

The darkness reached out with shadowy hands to throttle him, it swirled around his head to suffocate him and it lurked in the corners to mock him. Treguard was used to the dark. He was used to the shadows of Knightmare, he had grown up with them. They had their own quality, in a sense he felt possessive about them. It didn't matter where he was, either in the antechamber or even as Lord Fear's prisoner, he wasn't afraid of the dark.

No-one was afraid of the dark. They were afraid of the unknown. Anything could hide in a shadow and as the Dungoenmaster he knew better than anyone what 'anything' could entail. In the quiet of the dark cell where the only light came through a pathetically small opening in the door he could feel fear. He could feel his heart thumping against his chest, sounding like horses hooves as they pounded on the ground. He knew fear. He'd felt it when he faced Bealwit, with nothing but his wits to save him from being incinerated. He'd felt it when facing the Gruagach. He fought in battles where a stray sword thrust or arrow could take his life. But this was different. It was unbearable. It surprised him. The dark gathered, a vast velvet impenetrable cloud hiding god knew what. The difference, he realised, was that the risk had been entirely borne by him. If he had failed to win the castle, he would have died and countless more knights would have succumbed to the Grugach. He hadn't felt the weight of what might have happened if he failed. It would have affected countless people, which was wrong but...when it was your own flesh and blood...that was the difference.

He had been trying to recall as much detail as he could about her mother. He was finding that his attempts at burying the memory of his mercenary days had been quite successful. He could remember in detail everything he felt guilty about, every crime he had committed, but Eufrusina didn't come under that category. At the time he'd had an entirely different reason to forget her.

Before he had decided to turn over a new leaf, his favoured method for dealing with his actions had come in liquid form. It was a temporary measure but it had helped him sleep at night. In was in this state of mild inebriation that he had encountered Eufrusina again. He dug frantically at his memory, trying to recall every detail but it was no good. A thick fog settled over his mind. He remembered waking up on the boat clearly. The suggestive remarks of his men combined with their amusement was hard to forget. By that time however they were two days out from Zara. Dimly he remembered looking into the distance as the land disappeared into the horizon. Constantinople had driven every memory of Zara from his mind. It was then he had had first thoughts of home after tens years of hatred, and after? He had put his energies into forgetting the past he felt so ashamed of.

"And how are we me old mucker?" Lord Fear enquired cheerfully.

Treguard rolled his eyes and folded his arms.

"Oh, more gloating." He sighed in a rather bored way. It had the desired effect, Lord Fear's face briefly contorted with fury. It was replaced rapidly with a sinister smile.

"Been trying to remember? Must be difficult with the amount you drank!" Lord Fear exuded smugness and silently shrieked with delighted as he took in Treguards narrowed eyes, the only outward sign of his temper building.

"I'm curious." Treguard countered with a frown. "Has it really taken you all this time to find something from my past?" It was a risky gamble, but there wasn't much more Lord Fear could do to him. The fact that he smiled at this wasn't a good sign.

"Oh I did my homework, my old son, when I first arrived." He answered with a purr. "After I ousted that dreadful bore Mogdred, I thought that your past was going to prove a problem but you turned out to be such a stickler for the rules." He smirked. "That's worked out more in my favour than I thought."

"The rules..." Treguard started to say, Lord Fear huffed impatiently.

"The rules! The rules are there to stop me from gaining total victory! They are very one-sided!" He put on a tone of pure innocence. "Can you blame me for trying to even things up a little?"

It brought to Treguard's mind all the times Lord Fear had claimed victory over the Powers that Be, all the times he had spend gloating at another failed quest. The rules were one-sided were they? It had occurred to him, more than once, that the rules were indeed one sided in favour of the opposition since they had claimed the majority of victories. A noise distracted them. Several Goblins had arrived in the corridor outside the cells. They were preceded by more goblins carrying torches to light the way. They were carrying a large, heavy looking mirror. It was typically tasteless as many of Lord Fear's things were being framed in a skull and bones motif. Treguard watched as they struggled to fasten it to the wall immediately opposite his cell door. He frowned.

"Oh. I have a present for you." Lord Fear said almost absently, waving vaguely at the mirror. Once the Goblins had mounted it, Lord Fear muttered an incantation. The mirror suddenly became cloudy, gaseous mist swirled in the frame. Treguard cautiously approached the door to his cell, from his position he could see the entire mirror quite clearly. A sudden suspicion combined with hope lit within him.

"Ach! Interference! Still it should clear up soon." Lord Fear said irritably.

The mist slowly cleared. As it did, it revealed two figures on horseback. One Treguard recognised instantly.

"Pickle." He said quizzically. It was the other figure that suddenly captivated his attention. That Lord Fear was grinning like a snake marking his every move didn't concern him. Beside Pickle rode a dark haired young woman. She wore leather armour lightly embossed with a celtic knot and a carried a bow in a holster on her back. Almost in response to his thought the mirror enlarge her face, Treguard drank in as much detail as he could. Then he heard Lord Fear hissing in his ear.

"Yes that is her. She's coming this way. I've arranged some entertainment so she won't get bored."

Treguard snapped him a dark look, which delighted Lord Fear. That was her. There was still an immoveable block in his mind, it stopped him from understanding fully who she was. Putting his own life in danger was utterly different to watching someone else do it. If you lost your life, you were hardly going to miss it. Lord Fear had surpassed himself this time.


	5. Chapter 5

Pickle and Cat continued their journey on horse for some hours. The sun climbed high into the sky, scorching the ground in front of them. The heat was strong enough that both Cat and Pickle had shed their cloaks. They continued on the road, the dust disturbed by the horses hooves clung to the animal's legs. A slight cooling breeze refreshed them, and sent the fields of wheat swaying in the breeze, their golden colour shinning in the sun. They had left the village far behind them. In front of them, the rolling countryside like a patchwork quit lay before them. Pickle studied his new companion with interest. She had a bow in a holster on her back where it could be easily drawn and a quiver of arrows hanging from her belt. There was a long knife in a sheath, which he could now see as she had removed her cloak. All were within easy reach. She caught him staring at her, so he felt compelled to say something.

"Expecting trouble?" He asked. She was silent for a few moments before answering.

"There is always trouble waiting."

"I hope you don't mean me." Pickle said. She gave him a thoughtful look before shaking her head.

"I've had the feeling that I'm being followed for sometime now. But whoever it is is elusive, refusing to show itself."

He watched as she scanned the road head, seeming to sniff for dangers and traps ahead. Her manner tense, as though ready to flight or flee at a moments notice. A few birds could be heard twittering, a sudden brief breeze whipped the long grass and wheat, otherwise they were alone. Pickle reluctantly kicked his horse so he could ride alongside Cat.

"Why you look for the forest of Dun?" He asked her.

"I'm looking for something." She answered coolly, and from her manner he could tell she would not say more. He decided to change subject.

"How did you know I would not be able to find the forest without you?" He asked

"An informed guess." Cat replied and looked at him again. "It was clear to me you've been wanting to get home for some time. Yet there you were. You said 'together we may find the way', indicating that alone you had not been able to find it. And since you've been wanting to get home for some time you've not found anyone else to find the path. Therefore you think that I am the one that will be able to help you find your way back to the forest." She paused and smiled. "Part logic, part guess."

Pickle nodded. "Where do you come from?" he asked her.

"Ravensport, on the coast. You ask a lot of questions!"

"I'm trying to make you out."

"And if I said it was none of your business?" She asked coolly.

"I would reluctantly drop the subject." He admitted. "And bring it up again when you were more amenable!" Cat smiled and shook her head. "I can see it's going to take more than a refusal to get you to keep quiet!"

"If we were to travel the whole distance in silence it would make the journey a long and tedious one!" Pickle pointed out.

"Then you tell me how you managed to become lost." Cat asked him.

"I wandered far from home, and I found I couldn't get back." Pickle replied sadly.

"Did you retrace your steps?" Cat asked. Pickle nodded. "The paths were closed. I could not get back in."

"You speak of the paths being 'closed', what do you mean?" Cat asked.

"The way back had disappeared. I could no longer find the path I had followed. I was lost."

Cat regarded him with sympathy.

"I'm sorry." The sun was low in the sky, although it wouldn't be dusk for a number of hours. The sky was getting steadily darker.

"There's another village ahead." She said to Pickle. "We'll stop there for a rest." Pickle was hungry and saddle sore and was therefore eager to agree. They rode up a small lane, high hedges either side of them blocked their view. Berries were ripening on the twisted branches. Suddenly Cat reigned in her horse. She seemed a tense as a bow string, she looked about them, like a bloodhound sniffing the air. In a smooth movement she drew her bow and quickly notched an arrow. She loosed the arrow, it disappeared into the hedge. Pickle heard a short cry. She fired another, Pickle heard a second scream. From out of the bushes leapt a group of men. Hooded and cloaked, some carrying knives whilst others had heavy looking clubs all of them looked menacingly up at them. Cat leapt from her horse managing to loose three more arrows before she hit the ground. Throwing the bow in Pickle's direction she drew her long knife. Two of the group were already dead, a further two had an arrow each lodged in their leg and shoulder respectively and were trying to flee the scene. One came at her with a knife, she pulled the man's elbow down, slashed his neck. A second came, screaming loudly. She knocked his arm aside and brought her knife down it also cutting the man's throat. He collapsed to the ground blood gurgling in his throat. The next tried to punch her in the gut. She blocked, caught his wrist and turned it. As her knife scythed upwards, he desperately tried to punch her with his other arm. She blocked and in a quick movement she had his arm behind his back. The side of his neck gouging blood. He rolled away, clutching pathetically at the wound. There was one left, but he was prepared. He swung his sword at her. She ducked from side to side dodging the blows. He was getting angry, none of his blows had met their mark. He growled and thrust the sword at her. She stepped quickly in and to his side at the same time brought her knife down on his arm. He howled and dropped his sword trying to staunch the deep cut with his hand.

Pickle gapped. The fight had lasted no longer than a few minutes. All of the men lay around in a circle either groaning or trying to desperately crawl away. He could tell from some of their wounds that some of them would not last the night. Cat stood back from her last victim. He was kneeling on the ground in front of her still clutching his arm.

"Give me a name."

The man looked up at her.

"You must be mad." He panted. Blood was dripping down his arm and on to the dirt track. The rest of his gang had used what energy they had left and run. Pickle cautiously approached, careful to keep Cat between him and the attacker.

"Skarkill!" He exclaimed. Skarkill growled in response.

"You know him?" Cat asked.

"Yes, he works for Lord Fear!" Pickle still regarded Skarkill with amazement.

"Lord Fear?" Cat repeated.

"Yeah and he'll rip you to pieces!" Skarkill snarled. He stopped abruptly as a Cat brought a knife to his throat. Skarkill's one good eye widened as she put pressure on the blade, he could feel a thin stream of blood trickle down his throat.

"So far so good." She said coldy. She held the blade to his throat for a few moments longer, then as suddenly as it had appeared, it vanished. Cat took a few step away from Skarkill.

"Get out of my sight." She commanded him quietly. He got to his feet as quickly as he could and ran away.

"Why did you let him go?" Pickle asked her.

"He was a coward. I have no time for cowards."

"You said you thought someone was following you. Now we know who sent them. " Pickle asked.

"Lord Fear." Cat nodded. "He must have sent the person asking questions about me in Ravensport."

The thought caused Pickle to shiver. He couldn't help but notice the shadows grow longer. His imagination turned them into long grasping fingers that seemed about to seize him.

The 'village' Cat had spotted was an optimistic term as it turned out to be three small houses, or hut's would be a more accurate term. Two of the houses had long since been abandoned. Their stone walls crumbled, their wooden beams rotted away. Plants had taken over. Tall willowherbs, their purple flowers standing proudly at having claimed another victory. The third dwelling seemed to be occupied. Broken and dilapidated like the other two, nevertheless it walls seemed to be in slightly better repair. They could see a small twist of smoke coming out of the top. They dismounted and lead their horses carefully to the entrance. Inside was a person, they couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. They were huddled in an old stained cloak which was drawn about them. The figure was sat by a small fire. The figure's belongings, some rags and a large book were on the ground nearby.

"Hello?" Cat called. The figure looked up, still hooded a shadow fell across his face so she couldn't see any detail, though she thought she could detect a white beard.

"Have you come to rob on...me?" It was a male voice, deep sounding and trembled slightly.

"No." Cat said frowning. "There were some bandits, but we've seen them off."

"Cat saw them off!" Pickle said gleefully.

"Cat…" The old man said.

"Yes." Cat said. "I mean you no harm." She looked around the poor man's house. "We have food if you would like to share it?"

"It would be gratefully received." The old man said seeming to warm to them.

"Definitely not a peasant then." Cat muttered quietly to herself.

"What?" Pickle asked.

"Nothing." Cat said with a smile. Pickle was sent to retrieve some food from their saddle bags whilst Cat sat opposite the old man. He had somehow managed to contrive to have his face almost entirely hidden beneath the hood of his cloak. Cat glanced towards the book.

"What's in the book?" She asked. The old man reached protectively for it, then seeing that Cat was not going to jump across and snatch it from him he placed back down beside him.

"Memories." He said sadly. "Of younger days and times past." Pickle returned with the food. Pickle went over to the old man who held up his hand for the food but at the same time turned his head slightly away so Pickle didn't see his face.

"You are on a journey." Suddenly the man's voice had become hoarser.

"Yes." Cat said thoughtfully. Pickle was suddenly looking between the old man and Cat. "But the path is proving to be elusive." Cat added.

"You are not far now. Continue on the right path and remember the true name of the place you seek." Cat stood.

"Come on Pickle." Cat went to the door of the house. She turned and looked back at the old man.

"Thank you for your help."

"But aren't we…"Pickle said looking at the fire and thinking longingly of sleep.

"No, not here. Come on."

As he listened the hoofbeats dying away in the distance Hordriss the Confuser lifted his head and smiled.

"What do you mean you couldn't get her?!" Lord Fear thundered. "One girl?"

One crazy girl with a sharp knife, Skarkill thought inwardly. He kept looking at his shoes. All of his men, the ones that were still alive anyway, were still licking their wounds from the encounter. He had had to succumb to the ministrations of a doctor who had wrapped up his arm.

"Sorry Lordship." Was all Skarkill could think of saying. He had thought it was going to be an easy snatch. He and his gang had trooped all the way to some salt stinking seaside town only to find their quarry had gone. So he followed her trail finally managing to get in front of her in the lane. Then he found she wasn't going to scream for help, or be easily dominated.

"She could fight that one!" Skarkill finally managed to get up the courage to stand up to Lord Fear.

"She's a maniac!"

"Tell me everything you have found out." Lord Fear listened to Skarkill, who recounted how he had to track her down which meant by doing so he had found out a little more about her. When Skarkill had finished and escaped. Lord Fear turned to his pool of Veracity and yelled angrily.

"HANDS!"

"Cat." Treguard whispered quietly. He watched her fighting with the men Lord Fear had sent, all the while his gut twisting anxiously. She could fight, he was relived to see though she clearly had a preference for the bow. The reason for the mirror was so that so he could watch helpless, whilst she fell into Lord Fear's trap. He was pleased to see that she would be considerably harder to trap than Lord Fear had anticipated. Details were where Lord Fear usually fell down on. He had discovered Cat's existence, but clearly he had no idea that she'd been trained to fight. Yet he had still found out next to nothing about her. It seemed oddly ironic that he was now reliant on Pickle for finding out any information he could about her. It was information that she was clearly unwilling to share.

His ability to keep a cool head under pressure had saved his life on numerous occasions. It seemed to have deserted him for the moment. It was possible that she didn't know. He dismissed this thought quickly. Pickle had indicated that she was looking for Dunshelm, undoubtedly that meant she was looking for him. A sudden feeling of injustice overwhelmed him. Why had Lord Fear tricked him? Why did he have to be goaded into falling for his trap? If he had been prudent, if he had waited...As it was, Treguard wasn't sure that the only way he would ever see his daughter was through the mirror graciously provided by Lord Fear.


	6. Chapter 6

After they had left the mysterious man in the hut, they had ridden on. Cat wanted to continue on even when the light had failed, but Pickle had complained loudly about various aches and pains in embarrassing places. Dismounting they had left the path and had taken shelter in a small stone building. It was just big enough for Cat and Pickle, so they had to leave their horses outside. Wasting no time, she had lit a fire, and soon Pickle found himself relaxing in it's warm glow. Cat stared at the flames, their flickering dance appearing to fascinate her. After a while she leaned back against the stone wall, and levelled her gaze at Pickle.

"Why did you leave your home?" She asked him. Pickle suddenly looked uneasy.

"I'd rather not say." He said shiftily. Cat's eyes brightened with interest, she sat up a little and looked at him quizzically. Realising that she was not going to let the subject drop, he sighed.

"If I tell you, will you promise not to get angry?" He asked her. When she nodded, Pickle took a deep breath.

"I..got lost." She stared at him.

"And how were you going to guide me in the forest? Or were you planning to lead me in circles?"

"It might look more familiar when I see it again." Pickle said indignantly. She should be angry, Cat thought. She should leave him here and tell him to find his own way back. But she found she quite liked Pickle, any anger she felt had dissipated quickly into amusement. The amused smile that appeared on her face puzzled Pickle considerably, who fully expected a wrathful temper to be exhibited.

"Why do you seek the castle?" Pickle asked her feeling suddenly braver. Cat considered her answer carefully.

"I told you, I'm looking for something. I was lead to believe that what I sought could be found in Dunshelm castle." She said carefully. Pickle frowned.

"The castle is named Knightmare now." He told her.

"Knightmare." She repeated thoughtfully. "When was the name changed?"

"A long time ago." Pickle was becoming increasingly puzzled. Everyone referred to the castle by it's new name. No-one, save Treguard occasionally, would refer to it as Dunshelm. It had been known as Knightmare Castle for so long now that people were beginning to forget it had another name.

"Who told you it was called Dunshelm?" Pickle asked. A dark look appeared on her face. The light of the fire danced in her eyes making them look red. There were times when Cat wore certain expressions on her face, or when the light caught her face in a particular way that would send a shiver down Pickle's spin. He laughed nervously.

"You're going to have to tell me something of yourself sooner of later!" He tried to sound lighthearted, but it made his voice squeak slightly. Cat sighed.

"I heard the name in Ravensport. There is a Castle on the coast near there, one of it's outer walls serves also as a sea wall. It is owned by Lord and Lady Whyte. One of the cooks knew of Dunshelm."

"So that's how you came to look for Knightmare? Did the cook know where the castle was located?" Pickle asked. Here Cat smiled and bowed her head.

"All I got was that it was in the north somewhere."

"Not exactly specific!" Pickle laughed.

"Well, I gather the original source wasn't in the mood to be specific!" Cat commented.

"The only person I know to have called the Castle 'Dunshelm' was Treguard and he never..." Pickle began to say.

"You knew Treguard?!" Cat interrupted.

"Yes." Pickle replied awkwardly. "I used to help him..." His continued hesitantly. "I left..."

He told her of the castle and helping the Dungeonmaster Treguard and that after some years he longed to return home to the forest.

"You're an elf." Cat said nodding to herself.

"But you had guessed that already." Pickle said shrewdly. He spent some time recounting his memories of Knightmare castle, of the quests that used to take place, the traps that were set for the unwary, of the dungeoneers. He also spent some time speaking about Treguard, as Cat seemed very interested in him.

"The old man we met on the road, was a wizard." Cat commented. Pickle looked at her with surprise.

"Of course! Hordriss!"

"That's why he changed his voice, he thought you would recognise him."

"He was never very good at disguises. I think it was pride, he didn't see why he should disguise the fact he was such a great wizard." Pickle watched Cat who was staring into the distance. It was dark and would have been pitch black but for the starlight and their fire. She seemed far away in thought.

"We are getting near." She said. Pickle glanced at the fields about them. As far as the eye could see were treeless fields lined with hedges and dry stone walls. Whilst still light Pickle could have sworn there was not one sign that they were anywhere near the forest. Yet her words, that they were close, sent a chill down his spine.

"If that was Hordriss, there must be a way into the forest." Pickle said. Cat turned to look at him.

"And we've been given the word to get in."

Lord Fear was furious. He paced up and down while Sylvester Hands and Skarkill both cowed. Only Lissard seemed to be immune from Lord Fear's roth.

"So you still haven't found her." Lord Fear growled.

"Well Lordship she's kept off the road…." Skarkill pleaded.

"Of course she has!" Lord Fear thundered. "She's not going to find her way into the forest from the road is she! I'd say 'use your intelligence' but you haven't got any!"

"Do you fink she'll use the way we gets in?" Hands asked. Lord Fear glared at him.

"Hands, you get in and out of this realm by my will. Which means next time you are outside I might just keep you out!"

"What way can she use then?" Skarkill asked.

"That depends on whether she has been trained. And as I have now ascertained..." Here he glared at Hands. "...she has."

"So she'll soon be in the forest and heading to the castle." Skarkill said. "Can't we just nab her on the way there?"

"Yes, I suppose that will have to…" Lord Fear stopped suddenly. Then a slow smile spread onto his face. "No. You will leave her unmolested in the forest. Let her come."

"Lordship?" Skarkill asked puzzled. Hands looked equally confused.

"Spread the news among your men. She is to pass through the forest unhindered."

"What about her companion?" Skarkill asked.

"Companion?!"

"Yes Lordship." Skarkill said quiveringly. "I think it was the Dungeonmaster's elf."

"One of Treguard's little friends? Yes him too. This is getting better and better." Lord Fear smiled an evil smile. Skarkill bowed and left quickly.

"Hands, there is something I want you to do, if you can manage it without bungling. This bottle, I want you to leave it somewhere where they will find it. Somewhere near the castle." Hands took the bottle suspiciously.

"What's in it?" Hands asked turning it around in his hands.

"Don't open it whatever you do. You'll regret it if you do! Just do as I say." Hands still looking at the bottle in a quizzical way left.

"What are you thinking Lordness?" Lissard asked.

"Oh something wicked!" He laughed and Lissard hissed along with him.


	7. Chapter 7

A rumble in the distance drowned all the sounds of the battle. Then the rain had started, falling in thin rods drenching him in seconds. The droplets made small clanging noises as they bounced of his armour, the sounds went unheard through the shouts and screams of the people around him. A Zaran rushed him, a home made weapon in his his hand. Treguard dispatched him quickly. The rain was getting under his armour soaking him to the skin. He turned as another Zaran came at him. A soilder this time, better trained. Treguard blocked the soilder sword thrust, knocking his arm out of the way and stepping in. One sharp push toppled the solider over, Treguard plunged his sword down into the man's neck. The details started to blur. He wasn't fighting any longer but searching. Going from house to house, trying to keep his balance on the street, slick with the rain. It was still dark, though there was an orange hue to the sky? Dawn? No. It was Zara. The smell of burning filled his nostrils. Black clouds of smoke could just be discerned from the night's sky. He and his men were going from house to house, looking for something. Most of the houses were empty. Their inhabitants fled in the face of the crusading army. Most of their valuables had gone with them. Some had remained, optimistically painting crosses on their door in the hopes of being left alone. Fools. Another house, another cowering family. Fabrizio had his sword at the father's throat demanding any gold he may have. The man shakily points to a box which is eagerly broken into by his Sicilian lieutenant. There isn't much there. A few coins, but mostly taken up with family mementos that get ruthlessly thrown aside. Alessio wants to kill the family, but Treguard holds him back. He's taken everything they value, at least he can leave them their lives. Though how long they would survive in Zara with the crusading army was anyone's guess. He moved to the next house. At first it seems empty, and as he surveys the interior he perceives an old man, kneeling on the floor. It takes a few seconds for him to work out that the man is simultaneously pleading with him to take anything he wants but leave him his life whilst also praying to God to be merciful. Treguard picked the man up by the collar and throws him roughly aside. God isn't anywhere to be seen in these events. Yet something peeked his interest. The man is watching him like a cat. He is hiding something. Treguard surveyed the room once again. It is plain, a chimney in one corner of the room, a plain wooden table with chairs, and a large box, bound with metal, up against another wall. It would be very hard to shift, the box looks heavy. He walked over to it. Someone has shifted it, and recently, he can see the tracks it made in the floor. He grabed the box. The man ran over to him to try and stop him. He pushed him aside once more. He pulls at the box and it moves. He started in surprise as he saw...

Treguard woke with a start. He'd been dreaming about Zara. Even as he tried to recall the dream he could feel it slip like morning mist out of his mind. Trying to forcibly reawaken his memory was yielding little results. The memory of Zara was still as foggy as before, with only a few details being clear in his mind. In his effort to forget, he had successfully forgotten the relativity innocent actions whilst remembering whilst crystal clarity those incidents which made him feel most guilty.

"So close and yet so far." Lord Fear's taunting voice broke his chain of thought. He took a breath and countered.

"Things haven't gone according to plan for you either."

"Oh believe me! I'm just playing at the moment." Lord Fear retorted.

"She managed to deal effectively with your gang." Treguard pointed out. Irritation flashed across Lord Fear's face.

"I imagine that drinking a vast amount of alcohol someone might have difficulty remembering the night before. I've done my research. Excatly how confident are you?" Lord Fear paused for effect. "In the days you sold you skills for money? In the days you let your hate rule your actions? You did hate didn't you Treguard? You hated the Norman lords for letting the injustice of Vestan taking your home from you. You hated Vestan for murdering your entire family. And you hated yourself for not being able to do anything about it." Lord Fear chuckled. "If only I had come across you then…."

Treguard clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He took deep breaths trying to control the anger he felt rising within him. They were just words, he told himself. Taunting is part of his nature, he can't resist gloating.

But what if he's right? The words spoken quietly in his mind acting as confirmation of his worst fears. What had he actually said? He'd done his research. But Treguard couldn't remember. It caused a knot of fear to settle in his gut. Why was Cat coming to castle? To see him? Or confront him?

A new day dawned. Again to Pickle's obvious distaste Cat woke him before the sun had properly risen. He was not looking forward to another day getting saddle sore. Besides as far as he could see there was no sign of the forest anywhere. Yet Cat seemed to know where she was going. Pickle could see that something other than her eyes and ears were guiding her. She continually scanned the landscape ahead, her eyes narrowing and peering into the distance. They rode across fields avoiding the road and even avoiding other forms of human contact. Cat still couldn't shake the feeling they were somehow being watched. They for some hours before his complaining finally persuaded Cat to stop for something to eat. Here Pickle had a chance to see Cat's archery skill, she managed to shot a couple of rabbits from some considerable distance away. Fields stretched out before and all around them Pickle in vain tried to catch a sight of a tree, any tree.

"Have you noticed?" Cat said to him.

"What do you mean?" Pickle asked still looking into the distance.

"No Trees."

"I can see that. Or not see that." Pickle answered.

"Anywhere." Cat said. Pickle frowned at her, then glanced around more. "I expect to see an occasional tree, at the edge of fields, fruit trees, but there nothing. Almost as though they've been hidden." She got to her feet and peering intently at the ground she started to walk around seemingly in a random pattern. Watching her Pickle finally asked.

"What are you looking for?" She seemed to ignore him. Then, obviously seeing something, she fell to the ground and her fingers lightly traversing the surface. Curious Pickle joined her. She stopped suddenly and drawing her dagger started to scratch the ground.

"What is it?" He asked again.

"One of the ways into Otherworlds is to cross a stream." Cat said now digging the earth with more ferocity. Soon the earth she revealed became damp and wet and after more patience clawing a sudden spring bubbled up, like a very small fountain. Cat stood up smiling and brushing the mud off her hands. Already the small flow of water was a stream, like a line of silver thread in the glinting in the grass.

"This is it, this is the entrance. Remember the name of the place we want to go."

"Knightmare Castle." Pickle said. Cat shook her head.

"The true name, Hordriss said. The name it had before the monsters came." She stood in the silver line of water being created by the stream. "Before that, it was called Dunshelm."

And the forest was before them, as though it always had been there and they simply had been looking in the wrong direction. Pickle laughed in admiration.

"You've done it!" He took his horse's reins and led it to the stream, which seemed to mark the very outskirts of the forest that now stood before them. He reached Cat, still standing in the stream. She seemed to be rooted to the spot, regarding the forest with a troubled expression.

"What is it mistress?" Pickle asked her. This seemed to shake Cat out of the reverie she had fallen into.

"Nothing." She lied.

Treguard's only clue of changing days came from watching the mirror. He watched it with a hunger that couldn't be sated. He wanted to see her, to talk to her but there was a fear that grew inside him the nearer she came. A fingertip search of the cell yielded nothing useful. After all he couldn't pick the lock with a piece of straw. He examined the lock carefully, Lord Fear had covered every possibility as the lock wouldn't give to any magic he could muster. On reflection it might have been a good idea to take either Merlin or Hordriss up on their offers to teach him more. Hordriss was a powerful sorcerer, but not all that patient. It was too late by the time Hordriss had offered at any rate. He was too set in his ways, they were both too proud, certainly they would have ended up not talking by the end. But Merlin? He'd had a gentle touch, a subtle way of imparting knowledge. When he'd been on his journey to regain his home, Merlin had told him that he hadn't really been in his dreams at all, that it was his own mind sorting, ordering, working out answers. People were much more willing to listen to an old man, he'd said, more so if they thought the 'old man' was merely the knowledgeable and logical part of their own mind. People don't ask for advice, they just like you to be there whilst they talk to themselves. He could almost hear Merlin's merry chuckle. He sighed, this nostalgic tour of his memories were not helping his current predicament. Inevitably his mind turned to events he witnessed in the mirror. How had she known the name of Dunshelm? The gap in his memory grinned maliciously. Lately it was taking on the shape of Lord Fear which was worrying. He shook his head, no matter how hard he tried the memory was still as murky as ever. There were elements he thought he recalled but now he wasn't sure whether or not his imagination was trying to fill in the gaps. It was unreliable, that was the problem. His only source of knowledge had to come from Cat. But how reliable could that be? Cat's version of events would entirely shaped by her mother...Guilt and fear tied knots in his gut. He stood and paced, a restless energy seizing him.

He should have gone back. He had returned to Acre with Pickle. At the time he'd had a feeling that there was unfinished business. When the the dratted witch and the fake Sir Lancelot had turned up he'd thought that had been it. He'd been too ready to accept something that had seemed like a noble quest. Travelling and adventuring with a one of Arthur's knights? How was he to resist that lure? She had baited the trap beautifully. He had been more ready to accept that quest than even the remotest possibility that the unfinished business he sought was from his own past. Like anything that is unpleasant he had done his best to avoid it. Telling himself the business with Morganna he essentially absolved him. He had the sword morpheus, he'd had held the holy grail. Signs enough that he'd been forgiven?

When the Goblins attacked, Cat leapt off her horse and hacked and slashed with her knife. Pickle was not idle either, he liked to think that at least he gave a couple of them sever headaches from hitting them over the head with a sizeable branch he'd picked up. A few deep gashes, two sliced off arms and one sliced off leg later the Goblins had decided they were not being paid enough for this and had run away or in the case with the goblin with one leg hopped away as quickly as he could. Cat eyed her knife critically.

"Urgh! Goblin blood." She said with distaste and looked for some cloth to polish it with. She watched Pickle as he walked about the trees smiling fondly. The forest was an old one, she could tell from the broad variety of trees that were growing, as well as the size of their trunks. The sun penetrated through the canopy of leaves sending shafts of light to the forest floor. The leaves gave the light a warm green glow. Cat breathed deeply. For the first time since she started this journey she felt at home. She preferred the woods and forests to the villages and town. When she was young she had spent a great deal of time in the misty Wyvernmere forest, with Lord White's chief ranger Alwyn.

"I'm home." He breathed. Cat smiled.

"I said I would get you here."

"Well actually you told me to get on the horse." Pickle pointed out. They were in a clearing, beeches, elms, ash trees all laden with leaves stretching towards the sun above. There was one massive oak tree in front of them. It was a old tree with a thick girth, Pickle was fascinated by it.

"Root and fen! Oakly!" He sounded astonished.

"You've lost me." Cat said.

"He's an oak tree."

"I can see that."

"He can talk." Pickle insisted. Cat folded her arms and raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Doesn't seem to be saying much at the moment."

"He needs to be awoken. Command him to awake!" Pickle told her.

"Why don't you tell him to wake up?" Cat asked.

"He has been asleep for too long." Pickle said. "Almost ten years if not longer. All these lands belong to Knightmare castle. He'll respond either to the Dungeonmaster or a dungeoneer."

"In case you hadn't noticed we don't have either of those."

"You are of the master's blood, I'm sure he'll respond to you." The effect Pickle's statement had on Cat was dramatic. She gave him a burning glare. Her hands twitched and Pickle was sure she was thinking about her knife.

"Mistress?" He asked cautiously

"Stop calling me that!" Cat growled angrily. She walked away from him. After a few yards she stopped, Pickle heard her taking deep breaths, trying to banish her rising temper.

"Cat?" Pickle asked gently.

"How did you know?" She asked quietly.

"You have the master's bearing. His eyes." Which Cat promptly narrowed at Pickle. Hesitantly he continued. "I thought from the outset you were familiar. Sometimes when the light catches your face..." he trailed into silence. After a long pause he spoke again.

"You said a cook knew of Dunshelm..." He queried. Cat breathed deeply. This was a conversation she had hoping to avoid. But she could see Pickle wouldn't let it drop and he had appeared to guessed most of it anyway. She nodded wiping her hand over her face.

"Alright. But let's be comfortable first."

They settled near to Oakly, Cat having tied their horses to an obliging beech tree nearby. She sat crosslegged on the ground, while Pickle, having searched through the saddlebags, found something to eat. Pickle watched her as he ate, her expression was troubled and he had the impression some form of internal struggle was taking place.

"The cook is...was my mother." Cat said with a long sigh. Questions crammed themselves into Pickle's brain, but he forced himself to remain quiet as Cat seemed to be forcing herself to speak.

"She died recently." She added quietly. "Nothing dramatic. She had a fever that took her strength and her life. She told me about Treguard..." Her voice trailed away. Her mother had told Cat of Treguard some years earlier and until recently that had been enough. Since her mother's death however, Cat had been infused with a restlessness which only her current goal seemed to cure. Pickle was still looking at her with a curious expression. She raised an eyebrow.

"I was wondering where he met your mother." Pickle tried to make it sound as though it was of no consequence. However Cat was looking at him with a slightly amused smile.

"Zara." She replied.

"Zara?" Pickle repeated. "Where is Zara?"

"Was." Cat said distantly.

"Was?" Pickle encouraged. Cat looked at him.

"Zara was a port, on the other side of the Mediterranean from Venice. It had links everywhere all over the Ottoman empire. It was a place where people from flung places came to trade and it was a thorn in the side of Venice. Zara had been taking trade away from them and they didn't like competition."

"Where does the master come into this? It sounds like high politics to me." Pickle commented. Cat snorted with derision.

"The crusade to retake Jerusalem. What you may not know is that the whole crusade was practically bankrupt when they arrived Venice. The Venetians had built ships which the crusaders were to use to get to Acre. Only far fewer crusaders turned up than were expected and they couldn't pay for the ships. Until the Doge of Venice had an idea."

"I see." Pickle nodded sadly. "Get rid of a hated rival."

Cat nodded. Pickle suddenly gasped.

"He was there?! He took part?!" Cat nodded.

"I can't believe it!" Pickle sounded dumbfounded. "Cat if you knew the master then you would..." He stopped suddenly. He had travelled with Treguard to Acre and knew there was a part of his life he did not speak willingly about. That Treguard was or had been capable of such ruthlessness was still mind blowing. A part of him started to wonder if Cat could be talking about a different man, but just by looking at her he could see she wasn't. Curiosity drove him on.

"What happened to Zara?" He already knew but he had to hear from Cat.

"Raized to the ground. The city burned, everyone fled."

"And your mother?" He asked tentatively.

"Not all the Knights liked the idea of attacking a christian city. And some of them really didn't like the idea of attacking another christian city."

"Ah Constantinople." Pickle said. Cat nodded.

"One such Knight was Lord Aneurin Whyte. When the crusade left for Constantinople, he turned back to England and took my mother with him."

Treguard slowly let out a breath he'd been holding for a while. Jumping to conclusions was something he tried to avoid. It was much more difficult than he realised, emotion always clouding the issue. Clearly she had not wanted to reveal who she was, or why she was there, but why? Was simple caution or did she have another reason? Had Lord Fear not been involved what would have happened? Quickly he grimaced and shook his head, a pointless line of enquiry, he realised. There was no point ruminating over what might have been.

Cat's mother was dead then. Treguard found that he was not very surprised. He suspected that her mother's death was the catalyst for her journey. She was at peace now, whatever had happened, she was beyond any feelings of guilt he may feel. However that fact he still could not remember a single thing about her caused him great shame. His memory held gapping voids of Cat's mother.

At least he knew a little more about Zara. Her manner whilst she had been talking to Pickle had not been angry, as far as he could tell there seemed to be no bitterness or resentment. Still he wished she had gone further with her story. Most of what she had told Pickle was history. He'd been one of the bankrupted knights stuck in Venice whilst the leaders of the crusade debated with the Doge. There were many knights who had been unhappy with the agreed settlement. Zara was a Christian a city. The Pope did not approve. Some knights had turned away from the crusade altogether, they were the ones with integrity. He wished he'd been one of them. He'd needed the money, bitterness and a desire for vengeance didn't pay the bills.

He had got to a point where he had to shut his eyes and hold his nose to a lot of his actions. He didn't think about the lives he'd taken, or the people he'd ruined by taking their meagre possessions. He'd had to swallow his own bile at the actions of his own men that went unchecked. He hadn't been blind to it, he'd tried to convince himself he didn't care and drank copiously in a misguided attempt to prove it.

Did it matter that the person he had been then was gone? He'd been lead to believe that killing a dragon, burying his sword into it's flesh, bathing it in it's blood absolved his crimes. But neither Cat or her mother were to know that. As far as they knew he was the same person who abandoned them years earlier.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Hours later Pickle was resting in the glade near to Oakly. Cat had left him saying something about scouting the area but really he knew she wanted some time to herself. No matter how he viewed it, it was still difficult to think of Treguard in that way. He was the dungeon master, a guide and mentor it was difficult to imagine him... Pickle scowled. He'd instinctively known who she was when he had first seen her yet his mind somehow rebelled at the knowledge. He was almost as surprised as Cat was when he'd suggested she wake up Oakly.

He'd travelled with the master to Acre and had known there were elements of his past he preferred to keep to himself. He sensed guilt and shame but hadn't pushed any confidences. How would the master react when Cat appeared? A living breathing reminder of all he had tried to forget?

Cat clearly didn't trust easily, and if he hadn't said anything neither would she. What was her plan? He couldn't see her just announcing who she was on seeing him. Maybe she would do as she was doing know, scouting out and seeing the lie of the land. Try and gauge what sort of person he was and how the information would affect him?

Humans were not his speciality, though he would admit he preferred their company. The wood elves were too arrogant, the cavern elves too rude and opinionated. Humans came in all varieties, it made them very interesting.

Age wasn't something he thought too much about either. He understood the master had been mature when he first met him, but had never thought what had happened to him to make him the man he was. He supposed he was being too elvish, Treguard was a man after all, undoubtedly there would have been women in his life. Though he'd never shown any interest in any of the women around Knightmare. He couldn't see the master being interested in anyone stupid...which ruled out quite a few. Romahna? Or Gwendoline perhaps? Pickle considered these two for a few moment before shaking his head. More spirited, more practical though they were he still couldn't see Treguard considering them. Someone like them perhaps? With more kindness? He gave up his musings and instead decided to worry about Cat not returning, she had been gone for some time.

However hard he tried to get his mind off the subject, his mind continually returned to Cat and her mother. Maybe Treguard had been a different person when he'd first encountered her but no matter how much he'd changed, he still couldn't see Treguard simply abandoning Cat's mother.

Pickle straightened, sensing eyes on him in the darkness.

"Cat?" He called out uncertainly. The wood had never bothered him before, neither had the dark. Yet as he looked into the shadows it was easy to imagine lurking horrors just out of sight. His fellow elves were right, he had been around humans for too long.

"The paths of this forest twist and turn back on themselves." Cat said stepping into the glow of the campfire.

"I'm impressed, most humans never notice."

Cat didn't respond to this. "I'm not surprised you got lost." Pickle shifted uncomfortably.

"I shouldn't. As an elf the tricks of this forest should have no effect on me."

"Get some sleep." She told him. Pickle lay on his blanket.

"What of Oakly?"

"Tomorrow." She promised. Pickle didn't look satisfied but closed his eyes anyway. Soon Cat was listening to him snoring.

Not for the first time she was wondering whether this endeavour was a good idea. Suddenly present a man with a grown up daughter he never knew existed was hardly fair, especially if, as seemed likely from Pickle's description, he was going to feel guilty about it. Even if he didn't he had a life of his own, with it's ensuing responsibilities. There was nothing to say that he wouldn't resent her from turning up, he may feel obligated to make her feel at home when really he wanted nothing to do with her. Or he may think she had turned up just so as to ensure she inherited the castle when he died, such a miserly reason disgusted her. Before she had run into Pickle, most of these arguments had continually run around her head, because of them she had thought of turning back so many times she had lost count.

Cat let Pickle sleep long into the morning before waking him up. At first he was grateful she had let him sleep until he realised she had been awake all night.

"You should have let me do some watching!" He chided her. What was the point? There had been so much buzzing around her mind the sun was up in the sky before she had noticed. She approached the old oak tree. She had seen many remarkable things on her apprenticeship with Alwyn, yet she still found it difficult not to be cynical in the face of magic.

"Wake up Oakly." Pickle told her. She frowned at Pickle and then at the tree. "I don't believe you coming at this time was coincidence." Pickle sounded so serious that Cat shook her out of her own reverie. After throwing him a sceptical look she turned to the tree.

"Wake up Oakly!" She commanded. At first nothing seemed to happen, then the knarls and burls on the tree seemed to moved. Cat gasped and stepped back in surprise as a couple of the burls opened and revealed eyes. A large crack opened in the bark.

"Who wakens me? It's summer! Have I missed spring again?" Cat stared in wonder at the talking tree.

"It is I, Pickle." Pickle answered when it became clear she had no intention of answering.

"Hmmm?" Oakley spoke uncertainly. "None but a dungeoneer or the dungeon master could have awoken me." Pickle and Cat exchanged a look.

"It was Cat she is the master's…"

"Dungeoneer!" Cat said. Pickle stared at her. When Cat just glared at him, he decided to say nothing.

"If you are a dungeoneer, you must answer my three riddles and truth I seek!" Cat sighed and folded her arms.

"You brought it on yourself." Pickle pointed out. She narrowed her eyes.

"Here is my first." Oakly said. "Poor people have it. Rich people need it. If you eat it you die. What is it?"

"Nothing." Cat answered without a pause.

"Truth accepted. Here is my second: I'm tall when I'm young and short when I'm old. What am I?"

"A candle." Cat answered instantly.

"Truth accepted." Oakley said.

"Here is my third: If I drink I die, if I eat I'm fine. What am I?"

"A fire." Cat answered.

"Truth accepted. Three is the score you may know...more." Oakley finished uncertainly.

"I think he's confused." Pickle said. "If you were a dungeoneer he would information for you to help you on your quest, as it is…" Pickle shrugged.

"Quest…" Oakley seemed to catch onto the word. "Your quest is to free the dungeon master."

"Pickle?" She queried.

"I didn't know...Oakley what happened? Quickly Cat say I command you."

"I command you." Cat said after throwing Pickle a look of exasperation.

It wasn't an official quest. There were no dungeoneers from a dimension in the future. No passwords or keys to give. So Oakley told them what he knew.

"The master tricked into the dungeon?" Pickle queried. They had left Oakley and were riding on through the forest. Cat had been wearing a frown since they left.

"How did Oakley know?" Cat asked ignoring him.

"Mistress?" Pickle queeried.

"Will you stop that? When did questing stop?" She asked him.

"Almost ten years ago." Pickle answered.

"And Oakley has been asleep for most of that time. So how did he know?" Cat asked.

"I don't know. Is it important?" Pickle asked.

"I hope not." Cat said.

Furtively Sidriss glanced around her and opened her father's book. She was in the garden of her father's manor house and clutched the book to her chest, constantly looking about in case he happened to return. Magic. She tried to learn. Her father had tried to teach her, but her spells always went wrong. She had been driven to tears, her father had been driven mad and shouted at her for not paying attention. She had tried to learn, tried to concentrate but it never went right for her. In the end her father had smiled and said maybe she wasn't good at magic, but her heart was in the right place. That was her. Sidriss, useless at magic, but she had a good heart. Her father was away at the moment, he hadn't confided in her as to where he'd gone, so she had been left alone with her father's magic book. She couldn't resist it. Magic was in her blood! Her father was a great sorcerer! Surely she should have inherited some of his abilities? Anything would do! Turning a fish into a frog, producing a rabbit out of a hat, even a simple card trick! She walked a little way into the forest, found a tree stump and opened the book, she glanced around again and licked her lips nervously.

"Er..ap...apto malfacta insidroa guidera?" She said uncertainly. Nothing happened.

"Oh, it never works!" She said disappointedly. She took a deep breath and flicked over a few pages, maybe she should try something smaller? There was a spell to make a flower bloom, that sounded simple enough. She looked around and saw a flower with an unopened bulb. She crouched down beside it and placed the book to the side. She checked and doubled checked the spell. Then staring intently at the flower tried:

"Root, stem and leaf. I command you bulb to open!" Sidriss looked hopefully at the flower, which withered.

"Oh dear." She said sadly. She looked up at the sound of hoofbeats. Standing she picked up her father's book as the two riders approached. They stopped close by.

"Yes?" She said sweetly. "Can I help you?" The first rider was female, carrying dagger with a bow strapped to her back and arrows in a quiver attached to her belt . She had short dark hair and very dark brown eyes. Sidriss thought she looked slightly familiar, but dismissed the thought. The second was a older man, with greying hair and no, it wasn't a man but an elf. They dismounted and walked towards her.

"Hello." The woman said smiling. "Do you know the way to Knightmare Castle? This idiot has lost his way in his own wood!" The woman glared at the elf. The elf was staring at Sidriss.

"Sidriss? The elf said. "Don't you recognise me? It's Pickle!"

"Pickle?" She sounded doubtful, then the penny appeared to drop. "Oh Pickle! Treguard's friend!"

"This is Catrina of Ravensport." Pickle introduced. "She's…"

"Interested in finding Knightmare castle." Cat cut in. Pickle paused.

"Er yes...Cat this is Sidriss, she's Hordriss daughter. She's a sorceress."

"No I'm not." Sidriss said miserably. "I'll never be able to do magic, at least not like father." She pouted slightly, then seemed to take more notice of them.

"Are you sure you want to find Knightmare castle? It's not a very nice place. I'd avoid it if I were you."

"We have to get there." Pickle told her before glancing briefly at Cat. "The master has been taken by Lord Fear."

"Oh no!" Sidriss sounded genuinely shocked. "If my father were here, he could help you."

"We've seen Hordriss." Pickle said. "Sort of." He added quietly.

"Well maybe I can help! With a simple relocation spell!" Sidriss started to flick through the book. A look of panic crossed Pickle's face.

"Er no Sidriss, directions will be fine."

"What's the matter?" Cat asked.

"She's...not very good at magic. Sidriss please…" Pickle sounded desperate. But it was too late. Sidriss said some magic words, there was a blinding flash...and the horses had vanished. Cat and Pickle glared at Sidriss. Sidriss blushed a deep shade or red.

"I'm so sorry." she gushed. Cat sighed.

"Let me make it up to you! I can take you to the castle!" Sidriss smiled hopefully. "I know the way." She added seeing their combined sceptical looks.

"Why didn't you just tell us before you vanished our horses?!" Cat asked exasperated. Sidriss began to look upset.

"Her heart is in the right place. Besides she knows the way to the castle." Pickle said trying to salvage the situation. "Sidriss please take us to the castle."

"Pickle…" Cat began to disagree.

"She might be useful."

"Of course why not? But I hope you've got an idea as to what we do for food, since the saddlebags…" Cat looked at Sidriss. Sidriss held up her hands.

"There's food in the house! We can take that! And the castle is not far." Sidriss ran into the house.

"Taking her with us is a bad idea." Cat said.

"She knows the way to the castle. And you still have your weapons." Pickle pointed out. Cat shook her head. "Now I'll have to look out for the both of you."

"You never know. If we point Sidriss at them…"

"The whole castle will vanish."

Lord Fear was laughing. Treguard was leaning with his head against the bars of his cell.

"I don't know why I ever bothered to kidnap Sidriss, she does far more damage where she is."

"Lord Fear. Stop this. You have me…" Treguard tried. Lord Fear looked at him.

"Oh? So you're happy to let little children wander around your dungeon but when it comes to your own flesh and blood. Tut tut. And you accuse me of double standards."

"Those children…"

"I know, get back to their own time. Whereas your daughter…" Lord fear chuckled. "This is much easier than I thought. I'm enjoying myself immensely."

Treguard narrowed his eyes. "It may not have occurred to you that my daughter might actually win."

Lord Fear frowned theatrically and he mouthed the word 'win'. He shook his head.

"No...no I don't think so." Lord Fear grinned at him. Treguard frowned and suddenly grew worried.

"What are you planning?" Lord Fear's grin widened. He tapped the side of his nose and vanished. Worry grew in Treguard, but he pushed it aside. As Sidriss had said, they were close to Knightmare castle now. He had to be patient. Once they were inside, he could act.

Pickle, Sidriss and Cat crouched down behind a bush. In front of the was a clearing, a circle of trees opposite them and just beyond the clearing was a small ramshackle hut. In the centre of the clearing and occupying their attention was an old woman. Dressed in rags and bent double she was adding things to a bubbling cauldron. Occasionally she cackled inanely.

"I haven't seen her before." Sidriss whispered. Pickle shook his head agreeing with Sidriss. Cat looked thoughtful.

"I've got an idea."

Sidriss and Pickle stood up.

"Well whose this? Whose this?" The woman cackled and laughed. "Don't be afraid of a poor old starving woman." Sidriss and Pickle tentatively walked towards her. Pickle poked Sidriss in the back.

"Oh yes. I'm sorry, could you tell us the way to Knightmare Castle?" Sidriss asked sweetly.

"I'm sorry, I am old and deaf, please come closer, and tell nice Mildred what you want?" Sidriss had a fixed smile on her face, Pickle just behind her pushed forwards.

"Madame." Pickle said. "We are seeking Knightmare castle." He said stopping a few feet away from her.

"I sorry my dears, I still can't hear, please come closer…" Mildred pleaded with them. Sidriss and Pickle started towards her again. Suddenly the old woman gave an almighty squawk.

"Ah! What is that?!" She tried to turn.

"The point of a dagger. Don't move." Came Cat's voice from behind her. "Or I'll let some air into your lungs in the unconventional way."

"Attacking a poor defenceless woman…" Mildred complained.

"Your forgot the 'old'." Cat said unimpressed. "And I recognise a witch when I see one." Mildred's eyes narrowed shrewdly.

"Clever deception. If old." She screeched. She looked intently at Sidriss and Pickle who had moved further back from her.

"You know what they say. 'The old ones are the best'." Cat said.

"Let me turn and look at you. I want to see your face." Mildred asked.

"Swear you'll not harm us. Let us leave without being molested and you won't follow us." Cat said.

"How can you be frightened of an old woman?"

"Swear, make an oath." Cat insisted. Mildred paused, looking thoughtful. Then a smile spread over her face.

"No, you'll not kill me." She said confidently then cackled as she saw the confirmation in Pickle's face.

"No." Cat agreed. "But severely maiming isn't killing." She added with a growl. This gave Mildred pause for thought, then she hissed as though thwarted.

"I swear." She said. Cat took a step back withdrawing her dagger from Mildred's back but not lowering it. As Mildred turned, she changed shape...into Treguard.

"Stop that right now!" Cat cried out in shock. Mildred/Treguard laughed long and loud and she turned back into herself.

"I've still got it!" Mildred chuckled. Cat was breathing fast.

"What is your name girl?" Mildred asked. Cat narrowed her eyes.

"Cat!" She answered still wide eyed with shock. Mildred smiled.

"Interesting name…"

"Do you have any information?" Cat snapped.

"What have you for me?" Mildred asked.

"Your life."

"You won't kill me." Mildred said, though doubt was starting to creep in.

"Don't count on it!" Cat growled angrily.

"Very well." Mildred said and she started smiling again. "Lord Fear is waiting for you. He knows you're here."

"Where is Treguard being kept?"

"Deep in level three!" Mildred cackled.

"How can he be freed?" Cat asked.

"Ahhh. That I do not know. You will need powerful magic which that daft blond can't give you." Sidriss opened her mouth to protest, Pickle elbowed her. Cat backed away warily. Mildred held up her hands. "I keep to my vow." She grinned evilly. "You may pass, and I will not follow." Cat looked at Pickle and Sidriss.

"Come on." Cat said, she waited until they had caught up with her and were starting to walk on. Cat turned to follow, then glanced back. Mildred was still looking at them intently.

"You didn't ask her not to inform Lord Fear." Pickle asked Cat.

"No point." Cat said.

"Why?" Sidriss asked.

"Because we are being watched. We have been since we entered the forest." Cat said. Pickle gasped.

"Then Lord Fear knows…"

"He already knew." Cat said flatly.

"Knows what?" Sidriss asked innocently. Pickle looked at Cat.

"That we've come to free Lord Treguard." Cat told her. Sidriss nodded with a smile.

They had walked for several hours and though Pickle and Cat were capable for walking for longer, Sidriss complained bitterly that her feet hurt. So they set up camp and Cat started a fire. After eating some of the food Sidriss had brought, she quickly fell asleep.

"No need to look at me like that." Cat told Pickle who was looking at her.

"It seems senseless to keep a secret from your friends that is known to your enemies." Pickle pointed out. Cat nodded.

"You're probably right."

"It is your decision." Pickle shrugged. Cat nodded again.

"If at any point you think it would be better for her to know, then tell her. Otherwise…" Cat shrugged. Pickle smiled.

"Fair enough."

"Any idea how far we are now from the castle?" Cat asked. Pickle looked up as though trying to get his bearings.

"Not far. Tomorrow we should be there I think. If Sidriss doesn't get lost."

"Is that likely to happen?" Cat asked slightly concerned.

"No. Sidriss is not good at magic. But she knew the key combinations to causeways, passwords, and could gift the occasional spell to dungeoneers which worked for them."

Suddenly Cat stiffened. Looking at Pickle she mouthed 'somebody's behind me'. Pickle looked slightly alarmed. Cat coughed.

"Tell me Pickle about Treguard. What's he like?" She said slightly loudly.

"Well." Pickle said uncertainly. "Gruff, sacastic, intelligent…" Cat suddenly rolled backward into the dark and grabbed. There were sounds of a brief struggle before Cat came back into circle of light created by the fire. She had her dagger held to a man's throat. She threw the man onto the ground in front of her. Sidriss had woken up and got to her feet.

"Urgh!" She said with obvious distaste. "Sylvester Hands!"

"A tip for next time. If you trying to creep up on people, take a bath first. I could smell you from a mile away."

"Ere' it's not my fault miss...er 'ho do I 'ave the honour of addressing?" Sylvester Hands eyes kept darting around trying to look for an escape.

"You lie badly too." Cat said coldly.

"Why are you here Hands?" Sidriss put her hands on her hips standing just behind Cat.

"Answer the Lady." Cat said after a moment's silence.

" 'aint doing nuffin." Sylvester pleaded. Cat rolled her eyes, picked up her bow and nocked an arrow.

"From this distance, I can kill you instantly...or slowly!" Sylvester gulped and became frantic, his eyes darted faster and faster.

"Please miss! I just do what I'm 'old!" He reached into his pocket. "was 'old to put this someplace you'd find it." He held up the bottle. Cat nodded to Pickle who took it gingerly. After a few moments Cat replaced the arrow to her quiver and lowered the bow.

"Get lost creep." Sylvester Hands got to his feet and fled.

"What is it?" Sidriss asked looking at the bottle. She held her hands in front of it and gasped. "I think this is magical."

"We should leave it." Pickle said firmly. "It came directly from Lord Fear." Pickle carefully placed the bottle on the ground. Cat crouched down to get a better look.

"Do you know what it is?" She asked. Pickle frowned.

"I think I might know. If I'm right I think it's better if we leave it."

"Sidriss?" Cat asked. Sidriss face contorted with puzzlement.

"Ooh, well...It's magical. I don't know what it does though." She said. Cat looked back to Pickle.

"It's come's from Lord Fear himself. We can't trust it!" He insisted. Cat picked up the bottle.

"Cat I really don't think you should. What if it kills…" Pickle pleaded.

"Lord Fear, doesn't want to kill me." Cat said with such surety it surprised both Pickle and Sidriss. Cat looked back up at them.

"Isn't it obvious? He could kill me anytime he wanted to."

"He tried." Pickle insisted. "The Bandits, the goblins…"

"I don't call that trying very hard." Pickle and Sidriss looked doubtful. "Look, Lord Fear has been poking his nose around Ravensport for sometime, sending that smelly slimeball. Lord Fear wants me to come. So, this won't kill me." Cat pulled a face. "At least not directly." She added quietly. Taking a deep breath, she unstoppered the bottle. There was a blinding flash, and some smoke which vanished. In it's place stood a woman. She had long curly black hair and was wearing white billowing trousers and a white top with billowing sleeves and a redish brown waistcoat.

"Oh it good to stretch myself." The woman said stretching her arms high above her.

"Now." She started sharply. "Who open my bottle? You know how long I am in there! I…" She trailed off catching sight of Sidriss, Pickle and Cat.

"Majida." Pickle said. Then whispered quietly to Cat. "I told you it was a bad idea to open the bottle…"

"Hey!" Majida sounded afronted. "You wanted back to the forest! I take your place I…" Suddenly she frowned, taking in Pickle's appearance.

"You are older." She sounded confused.

"It is what happens to us all. Except genies apparently." Pickle said.

"No." Majida insisted. "Much older. I know it has been years since I have been out but…" She looked at Sidriss.

"You are older too." She pointed at Sidriss. Then she turned to Cat and peered curiously at her.

"And who are you?!" She asked indignantly.

"My name is Cat. I take it you are fimilar with Knightmare Castle?"

"Fimilar!" Majida cried. "I work there as Treguards assistant." She struck an imperious pose. "But what thanks did I get? Nothing! Nothing but scorn. So I leave, yes?"

"Yes?" Cat encouraged.

"So Lord Fear he ask me to use my genie magic for him. I tell him firmly. No I say. And then what? He put me back in bottle! He tell me I will never get out again." She frowned.

"I know I have been in there a while but…" She turned on the others.

"How long?! I demand to know."

"You can tell her." Pickle said quickly, Sidriss nodded in agreement with him. Cat rolled her eyes.

"Cowards." She muttered. "About ten years Majida." For the first time in a long while Majida was struck dumb. She gaped, first at Cat, then at Sidriss and Pickle.

"It cannot be." She said quietly. Cat felt moved to put her hand on the genies shoulder.

"Ten.." She repeated the word, as though trying to wrap her head around the number. She turned again and glared at Cat.

"Then what happen?" The genie placed her hands on her hips defiantly.

"Treguard has been taken by Lord Fear." Cat said.

"And we are going to try and free him." said Pickle.

"Yes!" Sidriss agreed enthusiastically. Cat joined Pickle.

"And now me too!" Majida said definitely and went to join Sidriss. Cat shock her head.

"I think we might win a prize for 'most unlikely rescue party'." Pickle said quietly to Cat.

"Well." Cat said equally quietly looking at Sidriss and Majida. "I don't know about Lord Fear but they certainly scare the hell out of me."


	9. Chapter 9

Oh yeah. There's more. I'm going to continue posting until I reach the end! Btw the next chapter is going to be called 'Level One Part One'.

Chapter 9

When dawn broke the following day, it showed them Knightmare Castle. They wondered how they had not seen it before, until Cat had pointed out that sometimes things were so large they were too large to see and so it was with Knightmare. The castle stood on the top of a tall pinnacle of rock. It stood like a tall black craggy finger pointing crookedly at the sky. The castle itself was barely visible, standing right at the top. Cat shaded her eyes from the sun as she looked up at it.

"What gets me, is how they got the building materials up there." Cat said thoughtfully. As they approached the base of the rock, they saw a thin, steep path that wound around the rock. They started up it, Cat going first with her sword drawn. Their biggest enemy however was not the imagined enemies that Cat feared would be sent against them but the path itself. It soon became difficult, some of it having fallen away leaving large gaps they had to jump across. Missing wasn't an option, a very long fall awaited the person who missed. Sidriss tried her best, deciding to close her eyes and jump blindly, luckily Cat caught her. Majida was proving more of a problem.

"Are you mad?!" Majida shouted at them at the latest gap. Sidriss had made the jump and was now pressing herself as firmly as she could against the rock. Cat and Pickle had already made the jump fairly easily.

"Come on Majida! We'll catch you!" Cat insisted. Majida crept forward she her feet were on the edge of the gap. The wind whipped up and nearly caught her off balance.

"You are mad! You are all insane!" Majida waved her hands theatrically.

"Unless you have a better idea for getting us there!" Cat shouted impatiently.

"Yes I do!" The genie snapped back.

The next thing Cat knew she was tumbling forward in an inky blackness.

"Where am I?" She whispered. "Pickle?" She called out uncertainly.

"I'm here too mistress..er Cat." Pickle answered her somewhere to her left.

"Isn't there any light?" Sidriss said from behind her. Cat heard someone clap and the torches and the fire in the grate suddenly leapt into life. Majida looked smug.

"Thank you Majida." Cat said. Majida nodded sagely. "Where are we?" Cat asked.

"This is the master's antechamber. Where he met dungeoneers to send them on their quests." Pickle answered before Majida.

"That's what I was going to say!" Majida complained. Cat looked around the room. They were standing on a large flagstone floor. The walls were of grey stone bricks Cat walked up to them and ran her fingers over them, feeling the texture. Also in the room was a large wooden chair, ornately carved and inlaid with gold and covered with dust. There was a plain bench on the floor, not ornate in any way. In front of it was a mirror which was dark. The whole room had about an inch of dust on the surfaces. Sidriss ran her finger through it and looked at her distastefully. There were two doors from the room. One archway that seemed to lead to a corridor also lit by torches. Cat couldn't see through the other archway, a yawning blackness filled it. For some reason it fascinated her. Pickle looked at the chair then at the bench his face contorted into a frown.

"Cat there's something…"

"I can't get the mirror to work." Sidriss was sitting on the bench waving her hand up and down in front of it.

"Here let me try." Majida said and siting down beside her tried tapping the mirror and using all kinds of hand waves. Pickle was in the centre of the room.

"Cat I think..!" Pickle began more urgently but Majida interrupted.

"Hey Pickle, you try." Pickle started to move towards the mirror, but he saw Cat heading for the dark arch. He ran towards her and grabbed her arm.

"Don't go that way!" Pickle looked at her urgently. Cat looked at him at first as though she couldn't see him. Then she shook her head.

"Sorry. No of course not."

"Don't go that way." Pickle insisted.

"No need to tell me twice." Cat said sarcastically and they walked towards the bench.

"So this is where the quests started?"

"Yes." Pickle answered.

"The dungeoneer was allowed three advisors to help them." Majida said.

"That's a coincidence!" Sidriss said still distractedly trying to get the mirror to work. Pickle looked at Cat, who looked at the floor.

"Why?" Majida asked, then answered her own question. "Of course, there are four of us!"

There was a moment's silence, then they all looked at Cat.

"Before we get carried away, how does this work? What does it do?" She indicated the mirror.

"It sees into the dungeon. The advisors use it to guide the dungeoneer." Pickle answered.

"It doesn't seem to be working." Sidriss said.

"Well I don't know try this." Cat tapped the side of the mirror and it blinked into life. Sidriss, Majida and Pickle looked at her.

"Well how about that." Cat said unconvincingly. Pickle smiled

"What are you doing here?" Majida asked suspiciously.

"To help Treguard." Sidriss answered. Majida looked at Cat through narrowed eyes. "Are you sure we have not met before?" Majida asked.

"Lets see what the mirror has to show us." Cat said ignoring her. Majida and Sidriss turned their attention to the mirror whilst Pickle drew slightly back with Cat.

"That's what I was trying to say." Pickle whispered. "Three and one." He pointed to Cat. Cat looked at the portal to the dungeon.

"Yes, that's what worries me."

"Mildred said Treguard was deep in level three." Pickle pointed out.

"What are you two saying?" Majida asked suspiciously.

"That Treguard was being held in level three." Cat said.

"Well, there's nothing on the mirror but empty rooms." Sidriss said.

"I bet they fill up as soon as a quest starts." Cat commented. She sighed and looked back at the arch. The blackness seemed to have a tangible texture, shadow crept along the floor and occupied corners.

"Cat?" Pickle asked.

"I'm going down there." She said decisively.

"I'm sure the master wouldn't...I mean this doesn't have to be your concern." Pickle said gently.

"Wasn't it you who said that you didn't believe me coming here at this time was a coincidence?" Cat retorted thoughtfully. She moved towards the arch. Pickle followed and placed a restraining hand on her arm.

"I think this is a trap." Pickle said. Sidriss had joined them and nodded.

"Lord Fear undoubtedly wants one of us to go down there." She said. "It doesn't have to be you."

"Lord Fear wants us to challenge the dungeon! We play his game he will cheat! He always cheats." Majida complained.

"Nevertheless. Treguard is being held somewhere in level three. Unless any of you have a better way of getting to him." Cat said slowly. Pickle, Sidriss and Majida fell silent. Cat nodded.

"I didn't think so." She looked back at the archway leading to the dungeon.

"Yes but it doesn't have to be you that goes in! It should be me! I am a genie. I have magic. You don't even know Treguard." Majida said. Pickle looked at Majida sharply. Cat merely shrugged, still not looking away from the archway.

"Well how do we decide who goes in?" Sidriss asked. Cat looked at her, then she straightened looking towards the archway in the opposite wall.

"What's that?" She asked. Obediently, Pickle, Sidriss and Majida looked at the archway. Only Pickle looked back in time to see Cat disappearing through the arch that led to the dungeon. Majida harrumphed theatrically. Sidriss looked puzzled. Pickle sighed and said quietly.

"Good luck."


End file.
